


Score

by Flame_Doctor



Category: Pirate101 (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Dolan is angry, Everyone Is Gay, Jamal is an alcoholic, Leo is majestic, M/M, One Shot, Original Character(s), Pirates, Taverns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26768776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flame_Doctor/pseuds/Flame_Doctor
Summary: Having found the perfect man to steal from, Jamal goes to lengths to acquire his money. Patience is tested, spoons are thrown, rats get punched. Not very romantic if you ask me. Credit to my friend for Leo's character.In short, poor thief lad stalks rich captain boi and tries to rob him in an interesting turn of events.
Relationships: JamaLeo
Kudos: 1





	Score

It was a sad morning for Jamal. He found no good prey last night - every wealthy, pickpocketable person in Skull Island seemed to have stayed home last night - spent most of his spare change on booze, and now he was getting hungry. He had enough pieces to keep him going, sure, but that didn't make things suck any less. He moped his way down the sandy beaches that he knew so well, sincerely wishing for something that wasn't as shitty as the cheap bread they sold at the shops - the stuff was  _ rock-solid _ .

He frowned, kicking at a pebble in the sand. Of all the things he'd been faced with over the years living in Skull Island, it wasn't the wharf rats that upset him. It wasn’t the bombardments by foreigners and enemies alike that brought him down nor was it the pseudo-civil wars between the rival crab thug and cutthroat shark gangs. No. It wasn't these things that upset him.

It was the hunger. Nothing else compared. There was no amount of rum that could medicate the pain once his stomach began betraying itself. The body aches ran him down as his system searched everywhere within him for something it could consume as food. The hunger wasn't too bad today - he could go a few more hours until feeling cranky, and a few more after that until the pains started, so he wasn't worried. In the past, he's gone days on only a few scraps from some slob’s plate and a sip of rum. He had plenty of time. But he didn't feel like just surviving. He wanted to live. He wanted to get a  _ score _ .

Fortunately, one such holder of a score had just stepped off of Skull Island’s private dock, giving the area a once-over as the wind flicked the feather on his hat. A hushed tone washed over the roaming pirate folk when this blond guy, this  _ man _ , dressed in all black with a sword sheath and a watchful gaze, strode across the sandy beach towards Avery’s Court. Jamal set his sights on his brig - one from Marleybone, and sporting a jet-black color with gold accents. When the breeze hit it just right, the ship’s black flag was thrown to the side, bringing its vibrant design into view: a bright, golden lion that roared against the wind, geared to strike.  Jamal was already tailing the man before he even could think about it, allowing a great deal of distance between them. The guy had to be known for something, judging by how the public reacted to him. The fact that he walked around with neither bodyguards nor concern gave the thief all the more reason to be careful.

An afternoon of hunting found Jamal staking out Captain Avery’s office for half an hour, waiting in the afternoon sun for the man in black to come out. Later, the thief watched as the blond shook his head at every weapon in Harvey Deuce's collection at the bazaar, handed over a generous amount of money to purchased supplies for the road, and handed off a stack of crates to whom Jamal assumed was one of his crewmen. Judging by how the much stronger-looking subordinate strained upon accepting them, those boxes were pretty damn heavy, yet the man in black lifted them like they were empty.  The thief narrowed his eyes. Food and rum didn’t cost that much. He began wondering just what was in those crates before the guy he was following was on the move again, this time heading for the Kraken Skulls. Jamal’s gaze weakened. Finally, something he can look forward to.

The thief seated himself at the bar with obvious practice, requesting his usual as he continued watching the rich bastard through his peripherals. When Jamal's drink arrived, he took a long sip before carelessly setting it down at the edge of the bar to study his surroundings. He noticed a loud-voiced, dark-haired pirate who wore a blood-red coat and wide-brimmed hat was arguing with a grinning wharf rat nearby.

“Rough night?” Skinny Pete asked Jamal, handing drinks to a pair of arms nearby as the thief remained silent, looking frustrated. He sipped at his drink as the argument nearby grew more and more heated, ultimately resulting in the rat taking an audibly painful sucker punch to the jaw and landing on the floor with a thud. The angry man glared around the tavern for a bit afterward, most of the people looking away when he did.

"You wanna be next?!" He threatened a crab that was still staring. Tense silence hung in the room a moment before fading as the pirate let it go and turned back to face his drink, everyone returning their conversations as normal. The guy in black that Jamal had been following all day was at the other end of the bar, conversing intently with a frog pirate and having only taken a single sip from his drink. Jamal was already on his second round and wondering just how long this guy would talk.

After more rounds and even less chatter, Jamal was tired. Don’t get him wrong, he was wide awake and for once rested, but it had been nearly an hour and this blond bastard hadn’t even finished his _first drink_. Jamal was baffled by this.  _ How did he do that? _ Didn't know. Didn't care. Jamal was hungry. He was tired of waiting.

Snagging a metal spoon off some preoccupied shark’s plate, Jamal snuck to the opposite wall relative to his prey and raised the spoon in his hand. Gripping the handle like a conductor’s wand, the thief subtly reeled it back before chucking it across the room. The utensil bonked right into the head of that same, tough-looking pirate that had knocked the rat out earlier, and heads turned to hear him begin shouting questions to those around him. The guy in black looked on as well, granting Jamal the opportunity to zip across the place unseen and snag his score - the man's wallet - before escaping the Kraken Skulls.

Taking a hard right, Jamal dipped down the dead end path where no one usually thought to check before inspecting his loot. He knew better than to open it without getting to safety first, but judging by its weight and how it felt in his hands, it was a  _ lot _ of money. His amazement delayed his awareness, however, as he eventually looked up and saw the wallet's previous owner, who treaded silently across the sand towards him.

Not stopping to chat, the thief burst into a sprint to get the hell out of dodge, heading for the nearest building wall many yards away. He could scale it without a problem and only needed a split second to get the jump into his legs. However, his preparation to spring upwards was cut off quicker than he could arrogantly chant, “slowpoke,” when a large, firm hand planted itself on his shoulder. Out of surprise, Jamal froze - no one had  _ ever _ been able to catch up to him so quickly before. Not once. Who was this guy? His shock allowed the hand to slowly turn him around as he suddenly came face-to-face with the man in black. This was the first time Jamal had clearly seen his face, and he was blown away by the sight.

From afar, he hadn’t noticed at all, but it was now impossible to miss the way the black hat and peeking shards of blond hair completed the light-skinned, flawless face of the man as he towered over Jamal.  _ Were rich people supposed to be this tall and sparkly? _ The thief wanted to try slipping away, but the same hand that stopped him a few seconds ago slammed abruptly into the wall, trapping him as he was forced to look into the blond's eyes. They were bluer than any skyway the thief had ever seen, their chill removing any level of cold from Jamal's cheeks as he was forced to look away.

“My wallet…” The blond asserted, his voice a calm baritone as the thief beneath him gripped his score tightly in one hand, unwilling to let it go. “...hand it over."

_ Shit. _


End file.
